


Hindsight

by splash_the_cat



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-06
Updated: 2003-07-06
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1706999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/splash_the_cat/pseuds/splash_the_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She'd have known...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hindsight

**Author's Note:**

> S5. Spoilers: Into the Fire"; "100 Days"; "Upgrades". This one's for Liv, because she wanted more of them.

 

He knew it now. The moment he'd started caring more than he should. When he held her tight against him, her breath warm and harsh against his palm.

Or maybe it was later, holding her again, _clinging_ , desperate to feel something after the cold, the pain, those seconds of panic and adrenaline and fear - inexplicably, terrifyingly glad it was her in his arms.

Two distinct moments so intertwined he'd stopped separating them a long time ago. That should have been a clue, but he was notorious for forgetting to notice little things like that.

There were other, bigger moments he _had_ noticed (alternate universes and particle accelerators and force fields), but he knew now that they were the outcome, not the impetus. He wondered if there was an equation, an elegant string of numbers and decimals and integrals that would explain it all.

She'd have known. She knew everything that mattered.

"Jack?"

Daniel. He looked strange in the dark suit, his face drawn and pale. His glasses were smudged; he'd been taking them off every few minutes to rub at his eyes.

"What?"

"You haven't said a word since..."

Since he stepped away from the hole they'd put her in, brushing the dirt from his hand. The hand that once held her against him, fingers trailing from her lips along the cool skin of her throat. Not wanting to ever let go.

It didn't feel clean, even though he'd washed it a dozen times since.

"What am I supposed to say, Daniel?" Jack took a swig from the glass someone had pressed into his hand hours ago. Its contents were watery and warm. He finished it anyway.

"Nothing. I'm sorry. I just..."

Jack sighed. "I know."

And he did. Knew everything that mattered.

Clarity was such a bitch, sometimes.

 

 


End file.
